


Nine-Tenths of the Law

by InOmniaParatus



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2016-09-15
Packaged: 2018-08-15 01:17:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8036566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InOmniaParatus/pseuds/InOmniaParatus
Summary: Eggsy's life has stopped making sense. His dreams feel less surreal than his waking hours, he's forgetting things--important things--and Roxy's remembering things that she couldn't have known. And on top of all that, he keeps getting sent to Russia.





	Nine-Tenths of the Law

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SilusLocke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilusLocke/gifts).



> Shout out to Freebird, without whom this never would have gotten done.

_ Harry’s hands are everywhere, shockingly cold on Eggsy’s too-hot skin. It makes gooseflesh break out on his arms, even as his hips thrust up into Harry’s fist. _

_ “That’s it,” Harry murmurs. “Good boy. Come for me.” _

☂

Eggsy woke to sticky sheets and an aching heart.

These dreams killed him, they really did.

They started only a few days after V-Day and had plagued him nearly every night since. He didn’t know what his subconscious was trying to tell him—isn’t that what dreams were supposed to do? Or was that just what dozy girls thought in school?

Mostly, he just wanted to know why they were so…sexual. Things hadn’t been like that between them while he was in training. Sure, he’d noticed that Harry was  _ well fit _ , but all that meant was that Eggsy had eyes.

His Kingsman-appointed therapist insisted that it was a “perfectly normal manifestation of grief given past power dynamics” and that it would work itself out after while.

She was probably right, Eggsy thought, but still…the dreams were disconcerting and, well, draining.

He dragged himself out of bed with a defeated groan, and set about getting ready for work.

☂

“So there he was, hanging from the ledge of the Museo del Prado in his pants like a prat, begging me for his life. There were tourists below snapping photos, even!”

Eggsy had a stitch in his side from laughing so hard. Roxy’s mission had been ridiculous from start to finish, like something out of an Austin Powers film.

“Lucky! I keep getting sent to bloody Russia.”

“At least there’s borscht!”

☂

Eggsy lowered his battered body into the bath, letting his eyes close in pleasure as the hot water soothe his aching muscles.

Sparring with Merlin was always tough. Sparring with Merlin and  _ then _ being sent on a mission that went tits up  _ the very moment _ he stepped foot in the place and having to fight his way out of a bunker?

Well, he was fucking exhausted.

What he needed, he thought, was to relax, to get a hobby that wasn’t jumping off a building or cage-fighting his mates. Something relaxing.

He opened his eyes and let his eyes roam over the butterflies on the wall.

It was as good a hobby as anything, lepidoptery was. There was just something so massively aesthetic about all those beautiful creatures pinned neatly together, preserved forever.

And he had talked to that bloke down in Belize a few months ago, about a really nicely preserved morpho luna he had for sale. And there  _ was _ that black-and-white display on the landing with a nice, empty spot.

Eggsy decided to check into it. Perhaps there were some missions coming up in Central America—two birds with one stone and all that.

Satisfied, he closed his eyes again and let the hot water work its magic on his sore back.

☂

_ Water sloshes over the side of the tub with each snap of Harry’s slim hips. _

_ Eggsy straddles him in the bath, the water rapidly, unpleasantly cooling around them. He doesn’t care, won’t stop even if someone drops a toaster in. All he can think about is the way Harry’s cock fills him up, how he wants  _ more, deeper, harder _ until he can’t tell where he stops and Harry begins. _

☂

“Russia  _ again _ ,” he moaned. “C’mon. Why am I still stuck on this stakeout bollocks?”

“Could be that you look as if you haven’t slept in eight years.”

“Fuck off. Roxy looks just as knackered and she was tellin’ me about some caper down in Spain, with this bloke hangin’ from his building half naked.”

“Oh, I remember that one. Must’ve been 2002,” he said. “2003? No, it was definitely 2002. All that rubbish with MI6 and Abu Qatada had just started up.”

It took a moment for his answer to send up the caution flag of  _ what the fuck _ and before he opened his mouth to ask, Merlin seemed to catch himself.

“She’s keen, our Lancelot. Been going through a lot of old Lancelot mission reports.”

And, Eggsy thought, that was fair enough. He’d spent more time than he cared to admit in front of a screen, digging through Harry’s old files, hoping to hear a snippet of his voice.

“To tell ya the truth, bruv, I was hopin’ for a mission in, say, Central America. Like Punta Gorda, maybe.”

Merlin raised an eyebrow, unamused. “That’s not suspiciously suspicious  _ at all,  _ Galahad.”

“I talked to a bloke there a bit back, says he has a really gorgeous morpho luna that would finish out a display I got in my office. Gonna put it right smack in the middle.”

“And a morpho luna is…?”

Eggsy rolled his eyes. “Come on, mate. A butterfly. What else is it gonna be?”

Merlin regarded him steadily for a moment, looking as though he was itching to call bullshit on his motives or tell him off for trying to waste Kingsman resources to search for yet another pretty bug.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he said instead.

☂

Throughout the entirety of his mission brief, Eggsy sat up so  straight that his back ached. He’d always gotten a whiff of discomfort from Arthur. He reckoned he didn’t fit in enough for the older man’s exacting tastes. That sort of thing usually made Eggsy play up the accent out of spite, but this time he was eager not to fuck it all up.

He wanted this mission, wanted away from being sent from dreary old Russia and  _ especially  _  wanted the pit stop Merlin had promised him. He was going to be the perfect little soldier during this meeting.

“We were going to give this mission to Lancelot, as you know,” Arthur said, winding down his lecture on the Guatemalan drug trade. “Speaks better Spanish. But his mission in Malabo is running a bit late and—”

“Her,” Eggsy’s traitor mouth corrected before he could stop himself.

Arthur shared a look with Merlin, full of unspoken  _ something... _ disapproval? Annoyance? He couldn’t tell—then Merlin turned his attention back to Eggsy.

“Lancelot. She’s, well, not a ‘his.’ You said—”

“Yes, yes.” Arthur waved his hand dismissively. “Slip of the tongue. Moving on…”

☂

Eggsy tossed several yellowed books into his basket, barely looking at the titles. He wasn’t much of a reader, really, but he needed something to fill the downtime during missions.

He was terrible about it, really. Four minutes into the flight, he was out of lives on Candy Crush and wishing Pokemon Go worked at high altitudes and higher speeds.

So he decided to pop into a used bookstore across from the kebab shop he went to on Friday nights.

He thumbed through the classics section, wondering why all these books smelled like mothballs and cat urine, and picked up  _ The Old Man and the Sea. _

It looked  _ well _ boring.

But.

But Harry had liked Hemingway, hadn’t he? Or at least, Eggsy thought, he’d quoted him. True nobility and all that.

“Eggsy! Eggsy Unwin, is that you!”

He jumped half out of his skin—which he would  _ not _ be mentioning to Merlin—and turned to face…a total stranger.

“I thought that was you!” the lady prattled on, oblivious. “My, but you’ve grown! How’s your mum?”

“She’s…fine, thanks.”

The woman was middle aged, with sagging jowls and her hair was the sort of blond that only comes from too-harsh bleach over someone’s kitchen sink.

Eggsy was sure he’d never met her.

“And your sister?” she asked, which settled it rather neatly. She obviously had him confused for someone else. It didn’t explain how she knew him by name, of course, but he was an only child. He opened his mouth to tell her, but the was still talking. “Daisy must be, what, four now? Getting to be quite the little princess, I’ll bet.”

And, oh fuck, what was  _ wrong _ with him? He’d forgotten Daisy.  _ Daisy.  _ The most important person in his bloody life.

Eggsy carried on talking to the woman for a short while—not wanting to be rude—even though every nerve ending in his body was screaming at him to run.

He was going mad.

☂

_ Harry runs a soothing hand down his flank, fucking into him even as sobs wrack Eggsy’s body. _

_ Eggsy feels wretched and mad. He’s gone unhinged and he doesn’t want this, doesn’t want Harry’s hand pressing into his spine, pushing his chest into the mattress. _

_ He wants it to stop, but he’s afraid. It’s the only time he feels  _ whole _ anymore, the only time he doesn’t feel like a shell of himself. _

_ Harry comes with a shout and collapses across Eggsy’s back. _

_ “Don’t worry, darling,” he says, breathless. “It’s nearly over, now.” _

☂

Eggsy was dying to tell Roxy about his mission. He was  _ thrilled _ Not only was it not Russia, he’d been assigned  _ somewhere he wanted to go. _

It was like the heavens were smiling down on him. Merlin was smiling down on him, more like, but he didn’t really care  _ where _ the good luck came from.

He pushed open the door marked Lancelot. “Hey Rox, guess where I’m…going…”

Eggsy stood stock still for a moment, just blinking like an idiot, before he turned on his heel and beat a hasty retreat.

The  _ world _ had gone mad.

He bumped into Merlin halfway down the corridor.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Merlin said in lieu of a greeting. He’d barely looked up from his clipboard. It grated on Eggsy’s nerves. He’d stepped into the bloody Twilight Zone, and everyone was carrying on as though nothing was odd.

“I’m not trying to be funny…but I’ve just seen Roxy snogging Percival. She was on his lap and all.”

“Well, as long as it wasn’t a ghost.”

Eggsy huffed out half a laugh, still shaken. “The thing is—you know I ain’t tryin’ to judge anybody, but Roxy’s a lesbian and Perce is her uncle. You can see where I’m a bit confused.”

Merlin looked at him, features so soft and sympathetic, it was almost  _ more _ unnerving than what Roxy was up to. He reached across and gave Eggsy’s shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“You’ve been changing, too,” he said. “Don’t fret. Things will settle.”

☂

Two pages into  _ The Old Man and the Sea _ , Eggsy remembered the entire story. He remembered that bloody great marlin, the sharks, the poor fisherman’s ruined hands, even that Manolin loved Joe  _ fucking _ DiMaggio.

He told himself that he must’ve read it and forgotten, perhaps at school.

He knew he hadn’t.

He ripped the book apart, page by  page, and flushed it down the aeroplane’s blue-water toilet.

☂

_ Eggsy wants to make a joke about the Mile High Club, but it’s hard—no pun intended—to joke when your mouth is stuffed with cock. _

_ Harry clutches at Eggsy’s hair until his eyes water, and uses it as leverage to fuck his throat at a brutal pace. _

_ “Almost there, we’re almost there.” _

_ A shiver goes down Eggsy’s spine as cum fills his mouth. _

_ Harry looks down at him, eyes dark, and says “You need a haircut.” _

☂

“What do you mean, you sold it?”

The little man, Javi, shrugged. “Nine months ago.”

“But you said you’d wait until I made a decision, until I contacted you!”

Eggsy was irate. He’d come  _ all this way _ and for what?

“You’re crazy. I don’t hold product for nobody.”

“You’ve been doing it for twenty years, Javi!” This was absolutely bloody ridiculous.

The shopkeeper reached under the counter and pulled out a shotgun.

“Look, Mr Crazy. I don’t hold merchandise. I only ever did for one man, and he died during V-Day. I saw his obituary on the Google.”

“But—”

“No! No ‘but.’ I do not have the morpho luna. Leave now, or I’m calling the police.”

“You  _ told _ me—”

“I’ve never seen you in my life!”

☂

It took him a moment, when he wakes, to realize that he was in the infirmary. The oppressive, grey walls were a giveaway, even without the wires and tubes attached to him. Roxy sat near the heart monitor, reading something on her tablet.

He didn’t know why he was here. He couldn’t remember, couldn’t focus. He was  _ exhausted _ and whatever medicine they had him on, it was the good stuff.

He’d been in Punta Gorda—No, he’d arrived in Mazatenango. He’d checked into the hotel, taken a nap, then—

Nothing.

He couldn’t remember a single thing about his mission.

Fuck.

“You’re awake.”

Eggsy trampled down the rising panic and flashed what he hoped was a convincing smile. “Heeeey, Rox. Don’t suppose you’ve got any water? Bit parched.”

She walked over to his tray and filled a tiny plastic cup with water from a pitcher, but held it just beyond his reach.

“Lancelot.”

He blinked, uncomprehending. “What?”

“I prefer to be called Lancelot,” she said, in the sort of voice one uses to speak with very small children or very drunk people. “No more Roxy.”

Eggsy nodded slowly, feeling as though something was not quite right. Roxy—Lancelot—brightened immediately, handing him the water with instructions to only take  _ small _ sips and fussing with his pillows.

He drank just enough to chase the dryness from his mouth and let his heavy eyelids pull him into unconsciousness once again.

☂

He woke up to an empty room, with the uneasy feeling that he wasn’t alone.

He closed his eyes.

☂

He was aware there was an arm around his waist before he opened his eyes.

Merlin, of all people, was in bed—Eggsy’s bed—with him, snuggled close and as naked as the day he was born.

Eggsy didn’t know how to react, couldn’t process where this fit in what was, by then, an uncountable list of weird shit. He just knew that he was fucking  _ roasting _ and he had to get out of bed, out of the oppressive heat of the duvet and the tangle of limbs.

Merlin grumbled as Eggsy wiggled away.

“Go back to sleep, Harry.” 

He fled the room.

_ In the office, surrounded by his newspaper shrine, is Harry. Eggsy somehow doesn’t feel surprised to see him. _

_ “Is this a dream, then?” Eggsy asks, gesturing towards the bedroom. _

_ “I’m afraid not.” _

_ There is something wrong with Harry’s face, though Eggsy can’t quite place it. _

_ “Was any of it? Or am I officially bonkers?” _

_ Harry smiles. “It’s all a part of the process.” _

_ “What process?” _

_ “I told you the night you joined Kingsman that I saw a young man with potential. You were brimming with it. We only train the sharpest minds, the fittest bodies with the quickest reflexes. Often, yes, also people with the best connections, but I never really bought into that rubbish.” _

_ Eggsy nods because he has nothing to say. _

_ “We take the cream of the crop, and then whittle you down, bit by bit, until only the very best candidate remains. And then we shape you into the perfect vessel.” _

_ Harry stands and comes around his desk, face to face with Eggsy. _

_ “A Kingsman is eternal, Eggsy. It’s only these pathetic meat puppets that are temporary. By coring you out, so to speak, we can pair your youth, your physical superiority, with all my knowledge and experience. Your contribution, your sacrifice is over now. Thank you.” _

_ “Roxy.” _

_ “Yes. Her, too.” _

_ Eggsy knows he should be more alarmed, should run or fight or scream, but he feels too hollow, too blurry around the edges to react. _

_ He stares at Harry’s face as Harry comes a bit closer and presses a kiss to Eggsy’s forehead. _

_ He realises, as suddenly as a light bulb switching on, what’s wrong with Harry-- _

_ It’s not Harry’s face that Harry’s wearing. _

_ It’s Eggsy’s. _

_ Harry smiles with his stolen face. _

_ “Goodbye, Eggsy.” _

_ Eggsy tries to talk, to argue, to scream at Harry to  _ stop _ and give him his body back. _

_ Harry walks right through Eggsy, as if he wasn’t even there, goes down the hall and climbs back into bed with Merlin. _

_ Eggsy stays in the office, helpless and fading. _


End file.
